


Inuyasha: Prince of Thieves

by StarlingChild4



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: (why? because it's my fanfiction that's why), Action/Adventure, Almost Instant Wild Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Robin Hood Fusion, Eventual Smut, F/M, Robin Hood Inspired, Robin Hood References, Romance, Slowburn feelings?, but the falling in love part that will be slower, passionate romance, people can find romance and delay the love part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2020-10-14 00:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20591717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlingChild4/pseuds/StarlingChild4
Summary: Ever since the death of the beloved priestess Kikyo, the infamous outlaw Inuyasha and the corrupt Sheriff Naraku have held a stalemate for fifty years, the former evading arrest, the latter keeping his proverbial "throne." But then, a highborn lady, Kagome Higurashi, with a kind heart and fiery spirit, arrives in Nottingham...Posted also on ff.net and Tumblr





	1. Prologue and the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is basically a backstory, so it will be InuKik centric as a result. But the rest of the fic is DEFINITELY solely InuKag, not to worry!

Sherwood Forest, they said, was haunted. It was the home of ghosts and goblins and devils, and had been the haunting ground of heathen ancestors who had never been baptized and thus, never welcomed into the kingdoms of heaven. The people of Nottingham whispered of its evil nature, and prayed every night that the ethereal inhabitants would leave them alone in peace. 

Old habits of bygone days were also done to sate the spirits lurking deep within the thick foliage. Men nailed iron over the thresholds of their houses, and women hung medicinal herbs on the ceilings. Unconsciously, people passing by the woods, perhaps on an errand to their lord’s castle or traveling to another village to trade goods, would always bow their heads, murmur a prayer, and make a somewhat sacrilegious, ancient cultural symbol against evil. 

Curious children played “I dare you” games to see who could go furthest into the edge of Sherwood Forest before being gobbled up by a goblin or a witch. Sometimes, the occasional drunk wandered deep within the Forest and came out alive yet frazzled the next morning, babbling on about fairies and ghosts and witchcraft. Only the very foolish and very unlucky wandered in willingly and never came out again. Those examples were used as martyrs, time and time again, by scolding mothers, demanding their naughty children to stay far away from that evil place. 

Why didn’t anyone leave this wretched place? The Forest had not always been haunted, some elders declared, but rather was cursed, thus cursing the villagers of Nottingham as well. If anyone left, they would all be doomed and unleash Hell upon the land, so they said. It was best to stay, outside the Forest’s reach, but close enough to always remember – to always be wary of those devilish beings that were a pox on their lives. 

And so, the story went, for over a century. Although it was mostly contained in the village and castle of Nottingham, word travels far, whispers and hushed tones of Sherwood Forest being the home of “the Devil’s children.” Even the most cynical of visitors couldn’t help but shiver while riding past the forest. Their horses would snort and stamp their hooves nervously, before the riders clicked their tongues and spurred on their steeds. 

Most never dared to look directly into the cursed forest, but still, there were tales of eyes watching passerby. 

Eyes as golden as the sun, that flash red before vanishing into the trees. 

* * *

The great pillars that formed the long halls in the abbey rose like mountains on each side, towering almost impossibly high, with exquisitely detailed paintings featuring the gods on the ceiling. Every step walking down the cobbled floor echoed, resounding off the solid walls, resulting in an almost melodic rhythm. Except for late at night, the choir were singing hymns throughout the day in a separate chamber, their muffled voices and chanting melding with the hushed, echoing footsteps of priestesses, monks, and visitors. 

On a cool autumn evening, long after all services of the day, most of the abbey was emptied, except for the residents, and a handful of lords and ladies taking the extra time for private prayer. Many of the monks and priestesses were resting, as today was the one day, outside of worship where they may take the time to relax. 

A beautiful priestess, young and ethereal with long, black hair, tied back in a simple yet comely fashion, was quietly praying in the back of the Hall of Worship, alone except for a lord and his wife, who were further to the front, and the bishop, conversing with another patron. 

The priestess preferred being in the back if she could help it. Her beauty was unparalleled and well known in these parts, even when confined in the humble clothing of the abbey. Despite her efforts to avoid conversing with men, she still attracted many eyes during worship hours. 

But it wasn’t just her physical beauty: she simply exuded an aura of tranquility and mystique. Even now with her eyes closed and her hands clasped out in front on the back of the empty pew in front of her, she looked deep in prayer, a shining example of faith and purity. 

Little did the people realize how much turmoil was churning in the woman’s head. 

A man began walking her way, his footsteps all but blending with the rest of the echoing sounds, but the priestess knew he was coming. When he was just a few feet behind her, she said in a calm, quiet voice, 

“What business does the Sheriff of Nottingham have with a humble servant of the gods?” 

If the man was surprised by her intuition, he did not show it. He merely slipped into the pew directly behind her, and leaned forward so that his whispers would be heard by none other than her. 

“What other business do I need than to make a call on the loveliest creature in the land?” His voice was deep, husky, but with a slimy undertone, one that would make even the most trusting person shiver. His breath was hot on the priestess’s neck, but she made no sign of discomfort. 

“I am a woman devoted to the heavens and to the gods,” she merely said, without the slightest move of her head to acknowledge his presence. “I do not have the luxury of courting with matters of the flesh when my soul is already at peace.” 

“Ah, but that’s where you are wrong, my dearest Kikyo,” Naraku murmured, his lips now a breadth away from the back of her neck. “I have it on good authority that you have been, ah, ‘courting with matters of the flesh’ with a certain someone. A certain...._ half-breed_.” 

She clicked her tongue, a dry laugh bubbling from her lips. “How foolish. You really shouldn’t believe every wild piece of gossip you hear, my lord. It’s unbecoming.” 

“I know his name.” 

“Name it off, then, because rest assured, it will not be one of which I am familiar--” 

“Inuyasha.” 

From the other side of the hall, anyone who would be watching this scene wouldn’t notice anything untoward, other than the peculiarity of Naraku’s position behind Kikyo, but they were tucked so far in the corner, it would be impossible to tell how close they truly were. But had anyone been in front of the pair, they would have witnessed something entirely different. Kikyo’s pale hands were clenched tightly together, her eyes set downcast yet wide open, a subtle trembling in her frame. 

“I... I don’t know whom you speak of,” she managed to gasp in a somewhat controlled voice. 

“Kikyo, Kikyo...” Naraku purred, brazenly daring to place a breath of a kiss on her neck. “You’re not a very good liar. Not to me. Perhaps these believing fools think you’re the epitome of godliness, but you’re a sly one, aren’t you? Off galivanting with half-breeds, a dog, no less, making yourself to be his personal bitch. How … quaint.” He propped a hand on the pew behind her back, and ran his fingers along her neck and shoulder, forcing her to tremble more violently than ever. 

She didn’t dare jump up, knowing fully well he had her trapped. “What do you want from me?” she hissed, willing to rip his lips off with her mind. 

“If you wish to stay in the good graces of _the gods_,” Naraku referred to them with a sarcastic jab that ordinarily would have greatly offended Kikyo, but she was too terrified to make a comment, “and to keep your position here in the abbey, under the protection of the monks who reside here, then I have a proposition for you.” 

“Oh?” 

“By day, you pray and eat and do those silly acts of charity to the poor. By night, you come to my chambers. Alone.” 

She knew it was coming. She knew it from the moment he revealed her deepest secret, but that didn’t stop the flood of rage overwhelming her senses. 

“You disgust me,” she whispered harshly, finally deigning to turn around and glare at the filthy man. “How dare you ask me to give myself, give my purity, to a wretch such as yourself?!” 

“Your purity? Don’t make me laugh. You aren’t pure by any means, even if your beauty would tell otherwise. You have given yourself to the half-breed, Inuyasha, many times, I dare say, deep in his precious Sherwood Forest.” 

For a pause that seemed to last an eternity, Kikyo could only stare at him, at the cruel smile making an otherwise handsome face grotesque. She swallowed. “I … I haven’t---” 

“Lying is most unbecoming of you, Kikyo.” 

“I’m not--!” 

“I have spies!” Naraku spat, his smooth demeanor dissipating with a vicious snarl twitching on his lips. A few heads glanced up in shock, and though they could not hear most of what was said, Naraku took advantage of their caught attention. “Spies who have witnessed, firsthand, you, dear _ pure _ Kikyo, laying down, as naked as the day you were born, while the silver-haired half-breed Inuyasha took you, again and again and again---” 

“STOP IT!” Kikyo leapt to her feet, heedless of the volume of her infuriated shout. Heads glanced up, concerned and confused. Passerby priestesses and monks peeked their heads through the openings of the columns. Kikyo ignored it all, her heart thundering in her chest, staring down in horror at the man who was about to unravel everything, destroy everything she ever worked for. 

But Naraku didn’t feel the need to rake her name in the mud just yet. He smiled again, a horribly arrogant one, locking Kikyo in place. 

“Stop what, Sister Kikyo?” Naraku enunciated her full title with undisguised mockery, not even bothering to lower his voice. “Ashamed of your own hypocrisy? Feel the need to hide who you really are?” 

Whispers began spreading in the halls, echoing with a terrible sense of purpose, not unlike the footsteps of visitors and residents of this sacred place. Kikyo didn’t need to hear the words to know what was being spread from mouth to mouth. Questions, theories, doubts, fears, a growing buzz of confusion. 

Perhaps, the consensus began to say quietly, in the back of everyone’s minds, Sister Kikyo was not as holy as she pretended to be. 

Trapped under Naraku’s triumphant smile and the doubting whispers of her peers and patrons, Kikyo backed up against a pillar, her hand fumbling in her robes until she clasped the pendant she always wore about her neck. She quietly began to murmur an enchantment under her breath, willing her heart to remain calm. 

Naraku stood up. A small crowd had now gathered in a circle about the sheriff and the woman under proverbial trial. The captive audience stared at the former, waiting on baited breath, for the verdict. Was it true? Was it all a terrible misunderstanding? Accusing a holy priestess of impurity was a heinous act, one that surpassed mere punishment by law. Unless the accuser admits to it being a mistake, at least one party would be severely punished. 

If the priestess was innocent, the accuser would suffer a lifetime in the dungeons of the castle, facing tortures and torments that only wild rumors spoke of. No one escaped those dungeons and lived for long, for the law would hunt them down to the ends of the earth. 

But if the priestess was guilty? She’d be stripped of her status and sent on a public “walk of shame” before being sold to a brothel, the money of her sale given to her accuser. A fate worse than death. 

Kikyo knew that all too well. And Naraku, with his position of power, and him being a man, he clearly had the advantage. 

His damned smile proved it all the more. 

Her hand squeezed tightly on the precious pendant. 

“My lords and ladies,” Naraku said loudly, dropping all pretenses now, and finally addressing the crowd directly. He opened his arms wide, turning around so that they may see it was indeed him, their Sheriff of Nottingham, their lord speaking thus. “This brazen hussy is but a farce in this house of the gods.” 

He paused dramatically, letting his words sink in, as the buzzing of the crowd grew to the level of an angry hive of bees. He then pointed directly at Kikyo, who still had her eyes closed, focused on finishing her quiet chant. “She lies with dogs, all but literally, a certain outlaw, a half-breed with a dog demon for a father and a human mother. Your beloved Sister Kikyo has given herself many times to this freak of nature, this abomination, over the course of the past six months. She is nothing more than a demon’s whore--!” 

Suddenly, an arrow shot out of seemingly nowhere, slicing directly through Naraku’s outstretched hand. His shout of pain was drowned out by the screams of terror when another arrow came hurtling down into the Hall of Worship. And another, and another, and another.... A rain of arrows was showering mercilessly upon the people inside the abbey. 

Chaos erupted. 

Gossip long forgotten, the people tumbled over one another, fleeing their house of worship, some limping with fresh wounds, others rendered motionless forever on the cold, cobbled floor. Only Kikyo and Naraku remained, unaffected by the stampede of patrons, monks, and priestesses, hurtling themselves outside. 

When at last, the Hall was emptied save those two, a figure leapt down from his hiding place. 

A shock of white hair, that shone silver when caught in the firelight, and a pair of small dog ears atop his head of the same color. 

Whipping off the black cloak concealing his form, his bright red robes brazen and bright, the figure turned around to glare daggers at his opponent. 

Golden eyes, burning as intensely as the sun. 

Inuyasha, the Prince of Thieves had arrived! 

“You!” Naraku spat, clutching his injured hand. 

“Me, asshole,” Inuyasha said, his disgust ringing loud and clear. He slung his bow behind his back and hurried over to Kikyo’s side. “I’m here to collect my lady, so you can either steer clear or I’ll kill you myself.” 

“Your ‘lady?’ Ha! That bitch can barely be called a whore--” 

“Say another word,” Inuyasha snarled, Kikyo now nestled in his arms – she was still murmuring quietly, not even acknowledging Inuyasha’s presence -- “and I swear I’ll put a hole through your neck as well as your hand!” 

Naraku stumbled back, but he scoffed nonetheless. “You are only one half-breed, what can you possibly do to me?” 

Before Inuyasha could give a witty retort, Naraku let out a piercing whistle. The doors burst open, and hundreds of soldiers rushed inside, their spears and arrows all directed at the half-demon and priestess. 

Suddenly, Kikyo stopped chanting. “Inuyasha,” she said quietly, her eyes locked on Naraku’s cowardly form, hovering behind the front line of his army, “I’m about to cast a powerful spell. Whatever you do, you must not let me go. Understand?” 

Inuyasha adjusted her in his arms, nodding once. 

Sensing his quiet affirmation, Kikyo drew in a deep breath. Then released it. She raised her hands to form an ancient symbol, revealing the small, round jewel dangling at the end of her necklace she’d been grasping this whole time. Just as Naraku gave the signal to his men to shoot at the lovers, Kikyo said a single, foreign phrase in a loud, commanding voice. 

And promptly, the world was swallowed up in pure white light. 

* * *

_ Fifty Years Later: _

“My lady! My lady, please! Don’t go over yonder!” 

A high-born young woman, with thick wavy black hair and startlingly blue eyes, stood on the edge of Sherwood Forest, gazing with a puzzled expression at the dense foliage, trying in vain to discern any shapes further in. 

“So, this is the infamous ‘haunted forest,’” she murmured to herself, ignoring the panting and desperate calls of her handmaiden behind her. She shivered when a brisk breeze swept by her. It was early spring, and though the sun was beginning to warm up the world again, winter’s lingering touch remained. In shadier spots, small patches of snow laid, but at least the frost was almost over. 

And yet, the longer she gazed into the depths of the Forest, a thrilling chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. 

“Lady Kagome!” Yuka finally caught up to her charge, clasping the lady’s arm in a rare case of closeness to empathize the seriousness of the situation. “You must not wander any further! Your mother will have my hide!” 

“Something in there is calling me, Yuka,” Kagome said quietly, hardly knowing what she spoke of. 

“That’s those awful ghosts and goblins bewitching you, my lady! Please!” Yuka tugged on Kagome’s arm. “Forgive my impudence, but I must, my lady! Let us return to the castle! Lord Naraku will be expecting us, and we mustn’t be tardy!” 

Finally, with an enormous effort, Kagome tore her eyes away from the alluring forest. Quietly, she allowed herself to be led away, making note to come back alone when she had the chance. 

She didn’t see the eyes watching her leave, but she sensed _something_ there. 

But she didn’t notice how those golden eyes narrowed, glaring after her until she was completely out of sight. She didn’t notice the arrow slowly being lowered from its notch, or the way the clawed hand gripped the bow so tightly it almost broke it in two. 

Lady Kagome had no idea how close she came to becoming the next victim of the haunted Sherwood Forest. 


	2. The Red Star

_ Blinding white light surrounded them all, as all-consuming as the darkest of nights. The abbey’s grand hall of worship, the rafters on the ceiling, the giant columns of stone, the many pews w _ _ h _ _ ere worshippers lined up once a week.... all enveloped in this ethereal light. Lord _ _ Naraku’s _ _ men staggered and shouted in pain as the _ _ y _ _ covered their eyes, and even Inuyasha had to squint against the glare. But then, his eyes adjusted to the intense white world enveloping them. He looked down at _ _ Kikyo _ _ and gasped. _

_ She was glowing! _

_ It definitely wasn’t an advent of the white world she created. Her body and hair and clothes were all glowing with a thin purple tinge, encircling her body rather like the celestial aura of a goddess. Then, __Inuyasha __realized that she was also suspended, just above the arms that were holding her close a moment ago. _

_ Her brown eyes snapped open. She glared at __Naraku __– who, despite being just as blinded and __incap__aci__tated as his men, seemed to sense her ire by cowering even more behind one of the knocked over pews. With a slow, deliberate movement, _ _ Kikyo __pointed her finger directly at __Naraku __and uttered her curse: _

_ “A red kite shalt paint the dome of the world, _

_ Bright ‘n red as fire, thrice ere the rising moon. _

_ It shalt come to pass that a young priestess, _

_ With her unknown origin and concealed power, _

_ Will j__oin the Red Rogue, with fire and iron __heads, _

_ Piercing the heart of evil to the ground _

_ And purging this land from its cursed existence. _ _ .. _ _ ” _

* * *

Lord Kuno had no reason to fear Sherwood Forest. His grandfather spoke of an ancient path that ran directly through the woods, cutting in half the journey it would take to go the long way around. The young lord did not shy away from showing off his wealth, with long, billowing robes made of the finest satin and silk, and jewel-encrusted rings covering his fingers until they all but disappeared beneath the finery. He was on his way to meeting one of his father’s friends, a baron of the land, to talk politics and exchange wealth, perhaps with the baron’s daughter as a prize. 

The Kuno clan lived several miles south of Nottingham, and only vaguely knew of the infamous rumors surrounding the Forest and the villagers’ fears. As a result, the cynical young man, who’s read countless books on the natural world and astronomy, found the old beliefs to be ludicrous. 

There were a great many things unknown and mysterious in the world, he reasoned to himself, but ghosts and devils were figments of the imagination. Sherwood Forest was perfectly safe to pass through! 

He did not heed the villagers’ cryptic warnings, and scoffed at the elders’ wails of his life being forfeit. Commoners were such a foolish, superstitious lot, he thought with a roll of his eyes. 

“But the red star, milord!” one peasant dared to cry, falling to his knees and clutching the lord’s sleeve from outside the sanctity of his carriage. “The red star has got to be a bad omen! Do not anger the ghosts when they’ve given such a terrible warning!” 

“Remove your filthy hands from me, wretch!” Lord Kuno sneered, jerking back, as his guards pulled away the pleading man. “I know more about the constellations of the universe than you know the names of every pig you bring to slaughter! ‘Tis no more than a comet, nothing more!” 

Disgusted with the foolishness of peasantry ignorance, whom were responsible for wasting more of his precious time, Lord Kuno made the command to go forward through Sherwood Forest, peasant superstitions be damned! The carriage rolled on, his guards flanking all sides on horseback. Ignoring the despairing murmurs of the onlookers behind him, Lord Kuno snorted derisively and leaned back against his cushioned seat, planning on resting his eyes until he reached the neighboring town on the other side of the Forest. 

Oblivious inside the carriage, he did not see the flickering pairs of eyes watching his entourage pass through forbidden territory. For you see, the young lord was only half correct in his estimation: certainly, the Forest was not haunted, not in the way the peasants of Nottingham believed. 

But to believe it was safe to pass, especially as an obviously rich, arrogant young man, was naivety at its finest. 

Not even a quarter of an hour passed rolling along the road when the carriage came to a sudden halt. Lord Kuno jolted upright, heeding the muffled noise of the horses’ whinnies and snorts. Thinking it was no more than a rabbit or a snake startling the beasts, he thought nothing of it, closing his eyes once more. But soon, his frown furrowed and he realized what was wrong. 

The carriage hadn’t moved one inch after stopping! 

He raised the head of his walking stick and thumped the roof. “Hello? Can we get a move on?” 

No answer. With the curtains drawn, he couldn’t see what was going on, but thought he heard some scuffling. Perhaps one of the horse’s broke a shoe? Uncharacteristically concerned, the lord tentatively opened the door and stepped out of his carriage. 

His five guards were sprawled unconscious on the ground, some sporting rather large bumps on their foreheads, other bleeding from the nose or mouth. The master-less horses stood nervously about, snorting and stamping their hooves, unsure whether to bolt or wait for permission to move onward. 

Horrified, Lord Kuno looked above the carriage. His driver was slumped over in his seat. The footmen were sprawled on the ground behind the carriage. 

The lord, no longer frustrated or bemused, turned around to hide in his carriage and think of something, anything, to get out of this predicament. 

With a click upon shutting the door, he sat back, exhaling shakily. “Whatever shall I do?” he moaned. 

“For starters, you can give me those pretty rings on your fat fingers.” 

For the first time in his dignified life, Lord Kuno screamed. Rather loudly and high-pitched. The stranger who slipped into his sanctuary on wheels didn’t react, beyond his ears flattening on his head. 

Wait, ears?! Lord Kuno’s scream ended in a strangled gasp, staring at the silhouette of the unwanted companion sitting across from him. These ears were atop the creature’s head, not on the sides! Like an animal! For surely no human could have slipped past him so silently, so swiftly, let alone take out all his men so suddenly! 

“What -- what manner of beast are you?!” he asked in gasps, shrinking back in terror. 

The creature with animalistic ears and silvery hair grinned at him in the dark. His fangs glistened in a small ray of sunlight seeping through the curtains. 

“Folks around these parts call me a ghost. Others call me the devil or the devil’s child, depending on their mood. But you, good sir, can call me whatever you like. After you wake up.” 

“Wh--?” 

A thump, and Lord Kuno knew no more. 

.

.

.

The driver of the carriage was the first to be aroused. Drowsily, he blinked into consciousness, and nearly screamed in terror before Inuyasha clamped a hand over his mouth. 

“Now, you listen to me carefully,” the half-demon’s glinted with seriousness but also didn’t look threatening. There was no need to go too far when so little of a fight was made. “This Forest is my territory, and no one passes through without my permission. Your precious lordship is sleeping inside, along with his guards, so I took the liberty to turn your horses around – and hitching up the others, of course -- and face your carriage back the way you came. Do I make myself quite clear?” 

The terrified driver nodded vigorously. Inuyasha grinned cheekily and plucked something from the man’s chest. “I’ll be taking this as a souvenir” -- it was a silver pin with the emblem of the Kuno clan, marking the driver as a member of their household -- “and with that, my good sir, I wish you a pleasant journey! Hup hup!” 

With that, Inuyasha leaped down from the driver’s seat and slapped one of the horse’s flanks. The beasts immediately took off, and the driver almost lost his seating before regaining control. 

“Be sure to give my regards to Lord Kuno! His parting gifts may come in handy!” he shouted one last time before the carriage rolled out of sight and out of his terrain. 

Laughing, Inuyasha stooped down at his feet and heaved up the trunk full of treasures, then leaped up into a nearby tree, cargo in tow. 

The view from above in Sherwood Forest was so dense with intertwined boughs and large leaves, that the forest canopy was like a ceiling, a high vaulted ceiling of luscious greens and browns, not even allowing the sun’s bright sheen to pierce its thick, leafy coverlet. The Forest was dark, but beautiful. The trees were large and bountiful, and exuded a mysterious agelessness unlike anything else in the land. The place teemed with life, from the tiniest crawling ants in their massive underground labyrinth, to the deer and badgers and larger creatures who roamed their territory. 

This, more than anywhere else, was Inuyasha’s true home. 

From bough to bough, he leaped, swiftly and silently, with only the slightest rustling of leaves that could easily be mistaken for the wind. He spent the better half of the last century getting to know every nook and cranny, every tree and fungi, every bit of flora and fauna of this beautiful forest realm. Ever since he first sought refuge within this thick foliage, ever since it provided shelter in ways nowhere else had, Inuyasha became the unexpected monarch of Sherwood Forest. 

After a while, he leaped down into a glen, where a campfire and the smell of smoked meat awaited his hungry nose. 

“Jinenji, my friend, is that bacon I smell?” Inuyasha said excitedly, dropping his load amongst a pile of several other trunks, overflowing with treasures. “I never have been one to thank the gods, but thank the gods!” He laughed and eagerly grabbed several sizzling pieces from the pan, unheeding of the heat, and devoured the crispy, greasy slabs of meat. 

“You can thank Shippo,” Jinenji said shyly. The abnormally large man gestured at the remaining carcass of the slaughtered pig hanging off a dead tree. “He fetched that sow for a pretty fair price.” 

“You didn’t steal it, did you?” Inuyasha asked in a stern tone, though his golden eyes were dancing. 

Shippo, who was busy overlooking the latest trunk of precious jewels, shot a glare over his shoulder. “As if you’re one to talk, Inuyasha,” he said dryly, while eyeing a particularly large diamond, his bushy fox tail positively quivering with excitement. 

“You dare to insinuate that _ I_, Inuyasha, Prince of Thieves, deigns to _steal _from others?” The half-demon rogue placed a clawed hand over his heart in mock horror, shaking his head and tsking before swallowing the last bite of bacon. “Shippo, you disappoint me.” 

“Oh? Then, what do you call all _this? _” 

“Borrowing. From those who can afford it, of course.” 

“Boy, are we in debt!” 

The three lads burst out laughing and spent the next few hours chatting and making jokes. Then, after eating a hearty breakfast, Shippo gathered some of the gold coins and went to market to buy them more food (since, being a fox demon, was the only one among them who could easily disguise himself as a human), while Jinenji went foraging for more plants and herbs for his makeshift medicines. 

Inuyasha merely leapt up into his favorite resting tree and laid back, grinning over his latest “work.” Then, his brow furrowed, noticing a strange coloration in the rays of the sun gleaming down on his face. He climbed higher and higher, until he emerged above the forest canopy. 

In the late morning sky, he saw something astonishing. 

A red star, shooting slowly but steadily over the horizon, its bright rays spreading out and covering much of the eastern sky. 

_ “ _ _ A red kite shalt paint the dome of the __world _ _ ... _ _ ” _

A voice from long ago penetrated his mind. Inuyasha frowned more deeply, not wishing to relive that fateful night. 

The night when Kikyo died. 

And yet... just yesterday afternoon, he already had a glimpse of the past. That girl... with the long, black hair and bright blue eyes... if it wasn’t for the eyes, she’d look just like Kikyo’s sister, though of course that was impossible. He did not live the past fifty years after burying his old lover’s body to start dreaming up nonsense now. 

But even if she looked similar to Kikyo, that was where similarities ended. The girl was obviously upper-class, of aristocratic stock, and had a distinctly curious nature about her, if her hovering on the edge of his territory was any indicator. 

Inuyasha was watching for intruders, of course, when he caught sight of this strange girl. He was only startled by her looks for a moment, but it instantly vanished after her blue eyes made unknown contact with his. She had no idea, of course, but for a moment, he was staring deep into those pools of blue, like the surface of the ocean, which he had only seen once before in his life, but could never forget. He had a feeling that her eyes wouldn’t leave his memory either, for even while robbing the foolish Lord Kuno, somewhere in the back of Inuyasha’s mind, those blue eyes were staring into his soul. 

But then, her handmaiden showed up. And mentioned _his _name. 

Naraku. That _bastard _. 

Without thinking, Inuyasha’s hands had moved on their own, and drawn back the arrow on his bow. He hadn’t intended to kill the girl, only to scare, the way he had many times, make her truly understand that Sherwood Forest shall always remain “haunted” as long as he lives. 

But something about her hesitation to go back made him do the same. Perhaps she wasn’t connected to Lord Naraku, at least not by choice. The thought that she wasn’t the lover or ally of his hated enemy made him lower his bow and stare thoughtfully after her when she finally left his territory. 

Who was she? And why did her eyes pierce his mind more intensely than any arrow could? 

Inuyasha watched the red star, musing over the last prophecy Kikyo left behind in this world. 

_ Is that girl...? _

* * *

Nottingham’s feasting hall was impressive in size and space, larger than any manor the Lady Kagome had ever visited. The great stone walls and high vaulted ceiling bore faded banners, and sometimes, when the light from the windows caught it just right, the barely visible coat-of-arms of long-forgotten clans who once resided here could be seen more clearly. 

The ancient castle, though magnificent in size and structure, now more closely resembled that of a haunted place, especially when the wind moaned and creaked through the cracks and crannies. Although Lord Naraku had plenty of servants to keep his house from falling apart, the halls still echoed despairingly with every footfall, with few voices to smother those deep, lonely vibrations. The entire place felt_ tired _and empty and cold, like it would rather be knocked down into a pile of rubble than continue being neglected as a home, a place of warmth and feasts and balls like it once had. 

Unlike every other castle she’s ever visited or lived in, Lady Kagome was the sole guest in Nottingham’s castle. With no one to chat with, no one to feast with, no one’s company other than the rather unnerving eyes of Lord Naraku, who persistently stared at her during every single meal, she felt rather like going mad. 

How she missed home! 

Kagome shivered and pulled her wrap closer about her shoulders, walking pensively down a path in a flower garden. After breaking her fast with her host, she mercifully found a valid reason to excuse herself early from his table (which though massive in length, felt uncomfortably cramped when seated alone only a few chairs away from the man’s frighteningly unwavering gaze). She blabbered about desiring to take a walk, to explore the beautiful grounds, and all but bolted from the room as soon as she had the lord’s permission. 

“This fortnight couldn’t end sooner!” she mumbled to herself. “Oh, Mother, I wish you could fly here on wings and not leave me alone much longer with that... that _cad! _” 

The Higurashi clan had connections with the abbey as well as royalty: if a member didn’t join the abbey to serve the gods, chances were that they would marry a royal instead. As a result, for generations, the Higurashis were fairly close cousins to the royal family, and rather prominent patrons of their religion. And so, family members “higher up” in the Higurashi clan were “greatly appreciated” to pay visits on various castles and towns throughout the country, if not to neighboring lands. It was a courtesy, as well as good politics, Kagome’s father once jokingly said. It was a surefire way to gain allies, make further and deeper connections with the noble class, and also be appealing to the commoners, by making appearances more often on the streets than your average nobleman or noblewoman. 

This was Kagome’s first year as an ambassador for her family, as her mother was bedridden with a cold for the time being. It would be dreadfully rude if they called off the tour around the country, so Kagome, being now almost eighteen years of age, was put up to the task. 

Already, she was bitterly regretting it. 

With a sigh, Kagome sat down on a stone bench in the middle of the garden, deeply inhaling the rich fragrance of the bountiful floral around her. She glanced up, squinting against the strange red-tinted sky. This morning, while Yuka dressed her, they had noticed the bizarre phenomenon outside her bedchamber’s window. It was an ill omen, her handmaiden fussed, seeing a red star so brightly in the middle of the day, but Kagome felt otherwise. There was something about it that... _called_ to her, as she watched the massive red orb shoot across the sky, its magnificent “tail” spreading far behind it, until the whole world seemed to be under its shadow. 

A red, red shadow. Like the heavens themselves were on fire. 

Even now, outside in the quiet flower garden, the mysterious entity covering the world with its red hue continued its journey from one side of the horizon to the other. According to the whispers she overheard from Lord Naraku’s servants, the red star was first spotted around midnight last night, starting small, rising with the moon over the distant mountains to the east. But then, as the hours progressed, until now, not even a few hours after dawn, the flaming red color grew larger and larger, almost as blinding as the golden sun. Now, as Kagome squinted against the glare, she could just barely make out that its head had not quite reached the center of the sky. To the west were the last remnants of the normal blueness, but soon the star would conceal it as well. 

If Kagome’s old tutor had anything to say about this strange occurrence, he’d suggest that eventually the star will pass by the earth completely, in a few days hence. Unfortunately, Kagome always struggled with astrology and mathematics, so she had no real way of guessing exactly when this reddened sky would fully return to its ordinary blue. 

Still... she thought it looked quite beautiful. Mesmerizing, really. Almost as if a celestial being, a god or goddess was traveling across the world, leaving the trail of their journey for all to see. 

Gods only knew she wished she was on a journey herself. A journey far, far away from here! 

She had been at Nottingham for only one night, and already it felt like a proverbial taste of hell. Lord Naraku was a courteous enough host... upfront. But the way he held her hand too long while kissing it as a greeting, the way those eyes leered... She shivered violently once more, despite the warmer weather, drawing her shawl closer in vain against her inner chills. 

Perhaps it was poor judgement on her part. Perhaps the poor man was just extremely awkward in social settings, being forever cooped up in this lonely castle. 

But a whisper in her mind told her otherwise... 

“I hope you enjoy my sweet flowers, my lady.” 

Kagome bit back a frustrated groan, and forced a smile on her face, turning sideways to face her host. “I have a fondness for gardens, my lord,” she said with cool politeness. 

“A delicate flower as yourself fond of gardens? I never would have guessed.” Naraku smiled down at her, and made a move to join her on the bench. 

But Kagome stood up quickly. She pretended to smooth her dress, keeping her eyes downcast to hide her discomfort. “Your compliments seem rather untoward, my lord. I am neither delicate nor a flower, as you can plainly see.” She managed to keep her tone light, tongue-in-cheek, but inside, she was writhing in disgust. 

His Lordship, the Sheriff of Nottingham, merely smiled at her barely concealed emotions. He stepped closer, while Kagome stepped away. “You remind me of someone. Someone I knew long ago.” 

“Is that a fact, my lord?” Kagome murmured, feeling increasingly unnerved. 

“Yes. She, too, resembled a delicate flower, but hid her thorns from me until the last moment. I hope you would be like her, with any thorns... pruned off.” 

Before Kagome could open her mouth to finally give Lord Naraku a piece of her mind, and show her exactly where her “thorns” lied, a voice called out from the path. 

“My lady! My Lady Kagome!” Yuka burst forth from the bushes, looking flushed and agitated. “You have an appointment with the head monk ere this very hour. We must make haste and journey towards the abbey!” 

Kagome could have wept with joy. Instead, she swallowed her gratitude down and turned towards her handmaiden. “Thank you, Yuka. Please ready my horse.” When Yuka left, Kagome turned with a venomous smile toward her host. “Forgive me, my lord, but duty calls.” 

She turned and walked swiftly away, sensing his awful gaze on her back until she vanished from his sight. 

.

.

.

“Begging your pardon, my lady, but I don’t.... don’t like that Lord Naraku, I don’t!” Yuka’s face was flushed, her eyes flashing with triumphant anger for blurting out the truth, while still showing a layer of fear for her boldness. 

Kagome only laughed and patted her handmaiden’s hand. “My dear Yuka, you don’t need to hide your displeasure with me, for the gods themselves know how little regard I carry for our lord host.” 

“But he_ is _your host, after all, milady,” Yuka sniffed, her disgust at the fact hardly a secret in her tone. “And I know your lady mother would not approve of our gossip, but truly, if he … if he ever tries to make advances, my lady, you let me know! I’ll give him a piece of my mind then, I will!” 

“I can feel the gods quaking in their boots at the thought,” Kagome said laughing louder. “The handmaiden Yuka versus Lord Naraku. Truly, that is a tale that our descendants will sing of!” 

“You mustn’t tease me so, my lady!” 

“I know, I know, but I couldn’t resist.” Kagome smiled fondly at Yuka, who flushed and beamed back at her mistress. 

They were aimlessly wandering around the marketplace of Nottingham’s village, spending as much time as possible away from Nottingham castle as what was perceived proper. Not wishing to be caught in a falsehood, they did indeed visit the abbey for an hour or so, praying at the altar of the Higurashi’s clan goddess, and exchanging pious words with passing monks and priestesses. But in truth, Yuka’s hurried tale of a specific meeting was misleading: Lady Kagome was planning on visiting the abbey, it was true, but Yuka’s intervention was solely intended to stop Lord Naraku’s unwanted advances. 

And the Lady Kagome was eternally grateful for that. They wore dark cloaks and hoods to somewhat disguise their status and identities, as members of the Higurashi household, the emblem wasn’t exactly difficult to miss when uncovered. 

“Penny for ‘n apple, miss?” A small voice spoke somewhere below Kagome’s knee. She looked down, and made eye contact with a tiny waif of a girl, with one eye closed presumably from a bruise or injury. The little girl clasped a basket full of golden red apples, and was holding out one for the lady, her lips chapped and bloodied from lack of food and drink. 

Kagome’s heart tightened, and she instantly reached into her pocket bag, lifting up her cloak in the process. The peasant girl’s eye caught a glimpse of the satin green dress, and gasped, instantly recognizing the cloth of high-born lady. Kagome merely smiled reassuringly, and pulled out her fare. 

“Here’s enough for one apple, and a meal for you, little one,” she said, handing over a large coin, worth far more than the entire basket of apples. 

The little girl’s one good eye widened, her mouth agape in shock and delight. She tried to offer the whole basket, but Kagome laughed merrily and plucked the one that was originally offered. “This one’s enough for me. Please, go get yourself a bite to eat. You look positively famished!” 

“Thank you, miss!” The waif bobbed a curtsy and promptly fled to one of the many food stalls, and soon Lady Kagome lost sight of her in the crowds. 

“My lady,” Yuka murmured. 

“If you’re going to lecture me, Yuka, I ask you to spare your tongue.” 

“I’m not saying that the poor thing didn’t need the help, of course, my gracious lady, and you do your family’s name well by acting so kindly. But unless you yourself purchased a bun or two and handed them directly to the little one, your generosity has gone to waste.” 

Kagome frowned. “What do you--?” 

“’Ere! ‘Ere! Stop that li’l brat, this instant!” 

Like a wave rolling off a shore, the crowd stepped aside almost simultaneously around a particularly delicious smelling stall. The place was clearly owned by a bakery, with fresh bread and buns and scrumptious cakes all displayed temptingly on all sides. But the food didn’t have the crowd’s attention, nor the guards who pushed past Lady Kagome and Yuka. 

The little girl’s arm was gripped tightly by a very red-faced owner, his calloused hand large enough to break the girl’s very bones. Her apples were spilled all over the ground, several of which were ruined by passerby feet, the basket itself in tatters. The little girl was silent, not crying out a single word or sound, but her brow was furrowed, her one good eye glaring up at her captor. 

“Give it to me now, you li’l wretch!” The baker clawed at her fist, which was shut tight, and attempted to pry apart her fingers one by one. “You ‘ave no right to this much money, you don’t! ‘O’d you steal it from, eh?” 

“No one,” the girl finally said, her voice tremulous. “A nice lady gave it to me. She paid for ‘n apple and gave it to me!” 

“’n apple?! An entire gold coin for one measly apple?!” The baker laughed derisively, and the eagerly watching crowd joined his amusement. The castle guards also barked with laughter and strode forward to take custody of the poor victim. 

Unable to watch any further, Kagome clenched her fists tightly and marched forward. 

“You’re a liar and a thief!” A guard spat in the girl’s face. She didn’t wince, even as the saliva traveled down her chin. “Two counts to spend the rest of your days in Lord Naraku’s dungeon-!” 

“Cease this arrest at once, the child is innocent!” 

Heads turned in astonishment at the regal tone. With Yuka’s help, Kagome tossed off her cloak and hood, exposing her magnificent attire beneath. The Higurashi emblem on her brooch, the symbol of a burning flame, glinted in the sunlight, even more fittingly with the red star to add to the glare. 

Gasps and whispers erupted abound. “Higurashi,” was murmured again and again, as people quickly bowed out of her way. Kagome swept past them all, infuriated that her attempt to feed a starving child only lead to this horrible display. She stopped in front of the baker and guards, who could only gape at her sudden appearance. 

Yuka tutted loudly. “Really, are the manners of Nottingham as vulgar as they seem? Address my lady properly before I have mind to report back to her lady mother, the Head Mistress of the Higurashi Clan!” 

Instantly, the spell broke. The baker let go of the child’s arm as if it were lit on fire, and the guards instantly knelt down at Kagome’s feet. 

“Forgive me, my lady,” one said with his bowed head pointed directly at the ground. “You only just arrived at my lord’s castle last night, and yet I did not recognize you.” He didn’t have human ears, Kagome noticed thoughtfully, but rather long pointed ears, that darkened towards the base with his dark brown hair. 

The ears of a wolf demon. 

“I shall forgive your impudence if you would tell me the cause of this child’s arrest,” Kagome said calmly. She glanced at Yuka, who nodded and rushed over to the little girl’s side, pulling her away from the men. The little girl chose not to resist, sensing the help at hand, and clutched the handmaiden’s leg. 

“W-well, um, er, you see, milady...” The wolf demon guard stammered helplessly. Another guard nudged him with the butt of their spear. He cleared his throat. “The child was accused of stealing money.” 

“Accused? On what grounds?” 

“That... well... that a person of her.... background would normally never have even near the amount she carried. If that was the case, she wouldn’t be an urchin, would she?” He attempted to look up and smile wryly, but it was instantly wiped clean at the cold expression that looked down at him. 

After sweeping a cool look over the onlookers, Kagome knelt down in front of Yuka and coaxed her small rescue to come forward. “Go on, child, show me the coin in your hand.” 

Without hesitation, the girl obeyed. There sat the very coin Kagome handed her not too long ago. Satisfied with the physical proof, Kagome gently took it, squeezing her hand in reassurance, and stood up, showing all to see. 

“This coin was in my purse, and I gave it to the child so that she may receive a warm meal for once in what has no doubt been a very long time. Too long a time.” Shuffled feet and downcast eyes greeted her words. Kagome plowed on. “I suppose I should turn myself over to the guards as well” -- the wolf demon looked up, alarmed, along with his other men -- “for I am just as ‘guilty’ as this poor girl for being so foolish to think, to even _assume_, that an exchange of coin would be enough to fill her stomach!”

With blazing eyes, resembling more of a stormy ocean than a clear blue sky, Kagome marched over to the baker and slammed the coin in his palm. “How much will that cover?” She asked in a demanding voice, one that caused the poor man to visibly quake under her glare. 

“A-about two loaves of bread and four meat buns, milady...” 

“Then, we shall take it. Yuka, please collect the food and catch up with me. Oh, and be sure to purchase a beverage or two as well. Come with me, my child,” she added to the wide-eyed waif, holding out her hand. 

The trembling in the girl’s hand was enough to positively make Kagome cry. But she swallowed her tears with a smile and turned around, parting the astonished and silent crowd seamlessly once more. 

As Kagome walked away, holding the dirty little hand in hers (and noticing, with a breaking heart, how thin and cold the poor thing was!), she remained silent until they reached the steps of the abbey on the edge of the village, not too far from the marketplace. She glanced behind every so often, noting Yuka was following behind (and that the handmaiden couldn’t resist a few choice words at the unfortunate baker and castle guards before catching up with her lady and mistress). Satisfied with a job well done, Kagome sat down on the bottom step, patting a spot next to her. 

Her new companion obliged, and nervously attempted to smooth her rag of a dress. Yuka caught up and handed each a steaming hot bun before eating one herself. The lady and handmaiden waited patiently for the child to eat her fill (though occasionally Kagome would intervene with a “not so fast, or you might choke,” and “drink some milk”), then at last, when their charge took one last swallow with a happy gasp, Kagome wiped the child’s face clean. 

“Now, what is your name?” she asked. “I can’t continue calling you ‘little one’ or ‘my child’, now can I?” 

“Rin, my lady,” the girl said, her eyes shining up with happiness at her unexpected rescuer. “My name’s Rin.” 

.

.

.

Sheltered among the tree branches, the rogue Inuyasha watched the entire display from start to finish. 

“Lady Higurashi, eh?” he muttered with a grin. “I look forward to meeting her.” 


	3. Stirrings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: towards the end of the chapter is implied adult content, dabbling in non-con territory, plus domestic abuse. Nothing graphic, but it's best to give a general warning. 
> 
> Hint: a certain asshole villain is involved in said scene, not our leads. ^^"

When Lady Kagome came downstairs for supper that evening with a cleaned-up, peasant child in tow, the looks of astonishment from Nottingham’s servants spread quickly to whispering gossip. The child was clothed in a simple gown, one clearly of the noble class, but designed for her youth and stature being lower than that of the lord of the castle and his lady guest. And it was clear to all who had eyes that the child was quite new to the whole affair, as her wide brown eyes (one of which looked rather swollen, but still remained opened) took in the grand feasting hall, her dress, and her lady companion with great wonder and fascination. 

The Lady Kagome, however, seemed perfectly at ease, as if she were merely coming down to supper in her own home. Other than the occasional soft smile and nod directed at the child at her side, she walked with the air of someone who dared others to question the situation at hand. Other than whispers and stares from the nervous servants, no one spoke aloud a word, but eyes continued to flit back and forth between this newest development and their lord and master. 

Lord Naraku didn’t betray any surprise other than a single quirked eyebrow and a shadow of a frown. Ignoring the scandalous and apprehensive looks surrounding her, Lady Kagome calmly motioned a chair for the child and sat down as well, placing a cloth onto her lap like a true lady. 

Finally, Lord Naraku cleared his throat. Kagome looked up, smiling cheerfully, the first time she ever expressed genuine pleasure in the twenty-four hours she’d been staying at Nottingham Castle. 

“Does my lord have a question, or were you merely clearing your throat to dislodge a piece of roast chicken?” she spoke in the same cheerful tone that reflected her face, but no one missed the pointedness of her words. She was still disgusted with his impertinent behavior that morning, and her recent triumph in the marketplace by rescuing Rin made her feel rather bold. 

Naraku cleared his throat again, though his black eyes flashed with annoyance. He spoke in the same, silky tone of a perfect host. “My lady is more than welcome here in my humble abode, as I have made it clear” -- Kagome refrained from snorting loudly at this -- “but I must ask.... My lady, who is this.... guest of yours?” 

“This is Lady Rin--” 

“_ Lady? _” 

“Yes, sir. _ Lady _.” Kagome emphasized the word slowly, as if her host was too dumb to understand. She went on: “As of this evening, she will be living as a ward of the Higurashi clan, and will be protected by my family’s name at all costs. She will be given a thorough education, trained in the ways of court, and before long, be unrecognizable to the peasantry. Or even to the gentry.” 

Naraku blinked rapidly a few times. For the first time, he seemed completely unnerved. Then, he smiled. It was a slow, sickly smile. Condescending. The back of Kagome’s head prickled unpleasantly, but her cheerful smile remained pasted on her face. 

“How charitable of you, my lady. Perhaps you should consider becoming a priestess and allowing your services to be provided for … _ all _ who request it.” 

Kagome’s face flushed hot, but she kept her smile intact, even as her blood boiled. She wasn’t sure what was it in his words that offended her so. After all, the role of a priestess was a revered one, and hardly an easy occupation for even the most devout. And yet, something in that slippery, nasty tone of his could have made the most wonderful of things transform into something sinister and foul. What did Naraku mean to insinuate by “all” who requested a priestess’s services? Perhaps he meant nothing, only to catch her off guard. Yes, if there was anything this morning had taught her, Lord Naraku was a malicious man, bent on unnerving her with every twisted word he spewed out of his nasty mouth. Well, let him try to make her squirm! 

Spurred on by spite, Kagome’s eyes sparked with concealed rage above her fixed smile and she calmly raised her chalice. A servant scurried over to pour wine. 

“By your leave, sir,” she said sweetly, the smile on her face never slipping an inch, “I prefer helping those whom I see need it in the moment, not just those who journey to sacred halls in search of a deity’s answer. The gods can only do so much, you know.” 

She sipped the wine, her eyes locked on Naraku’s narrowed ones. With a subtle smack of her lips, she lowered her chalice and snapped her fingers once more. “A glass of milk for the Lady Rin, please, for she is too young to indulge in the sweetness of wine. Or of such … pleasant company.” 

Satisfied at the thunderous look on her lord’s face, Kagome turned her attention fully to the young Rin, who was sitting silently, petrified, in her seat. “Now, my dear, let our lessons begin...” 

She spent the rest of supper quietly and patiently teaching her young ward the basics of table manners and etiquette, completely ignoring a silently fuming Lord Naraku and only acknowledging his servants when in need of their service. 

The message became very clear in the tense hall, as Naraku’s servants whispered nervously to each other passing between the feast hall and the kitchen: never cross a Higurashi. 

* * *

Nightfall came in Nottingham’s village, but rather than put out the lights and go to sleep, the people were restless, frightened, and passing from house to house, murmuring about the source of their troubles. 

The red star was gleaming brighter than ever without the sun to block its glare. 

“’Tis a curse! A curse!” was said again and again, from the young and old. Some people began praying in the streets, in huddled circles; others lost their heads and ran up and down, banging on doors, wailing and bemoaning the end times. 

A flash of scarlet dove into one of the alleyways. But the pandemonium of the streets, lit with torches, and crowded with frightened peasants, meant that not a single eye noticed the fleeting image of red and silver. The red silhouette flitted into a nearer alleyway, pressed against the stone wall and listened carefully. 

“Curse, ill omen, it matters not which. The red star can only mean trouble, that’s for sure.” 

“And what of our farms?” 

“Our shops?” 

“Our livelihoods!” 

“Lord Naraku already is the yoke around our necks, why must the gods punish us so?” one well-off merchant called out angrily, the gold chain wrapped around his middle jiggling like bells with every quake of his well-endowed stomach. His general attire displayed a gross amount of wealth for one lacking in noble blood, with velvet cloth and trimmings of expensive fur along the collar. Along the gold chain were several heavy money bags, mostly filled with gems to trade or ones he had bartered for. 

A ripple of murmurs of agreement followed his declaration, some faces frowning a bit more tightly. No one appreciated that it was the unpopular merchant who said what everyone else was thinking. But at the moment, the ominous red star above was more concerning than a cheapskate neighbor, so no one made any mocking comment. Rather, more complaints were voiced about the gods, Lord Naraku, and the red star in the tight circle of frightened commoners. 

(Meanwhile, a clawed hand reached out and grabbed hold of one of the wealthy merchant’s many money purses. No one noticed.) 

A gruffer voice spoke out. 

“Has any man noticed that may’aps the cause of this terror ‘as been none other than the lord ‘imself?” 

“What say you, Ren?” 

“I’m only sayin’ that my gran always tol’ me that Lord Naraku is the same man that was named the lord of Nottin’am when she was a gal!” 

“That’s a cock and bull story as I ever heard!” 

“Your granny is bollocks, she is!” 

Laughter erupted, but Ren’s voice rang out louder over the din. 

“If it’s a cock and bull story, then I’m an elf! Lads, think: when ‘as ‘is lordship shown ‘is face in public, eh? When? And whenever anyone ‘as seen his mug, cuz they goes to his great castle to ask a favor or summat, they always says the same thing: hair as black as night, and eyes of the devil.” 

“He probably looks like his father, or something--” 

“Well, my gran worked for Lord Naraku and says he never aged a day. And she worked with him fifty years ago.” 

(Another money bag slipped off the merchant’s belt.) 

There was an uncomfortable silence, then one of the naysayers laughed nervously. 

“Come off it, Ren, when’s the last time your granny seen Lord Naraku--?” 

“Ere a fortnight ago, lads. She needed to ask for a break from the taxing cuz she’s been taking of ‘er ‘usband, my gramps, ‘o ‘asn’t been feeling hisself lately, poor bloke. She saw ‘im, the lord ‘imself. Nary a gray strand on his ‘ead, nor a wrinkle to show the years. No son or relation could bear such resemblance, not even a twin, and they’d be the same age anyway.” 

As the crowd buzzed and murmured with this revelation, the silent scarlet shadow dashed off unnoticed into the night, clutching his goods to his chest under his robe. 

Inuyasha had almost headed towards his beloved Forest, when an enticing scent hit his nose. It was mingled with other, less arousing scents, but it still dominated his senses. Sweet and spicy... so deliciously familiar... He paused under a tree, his scarlet form blending in perfectly under the darkened, red night sky. He turned around, sniffing deliberately, trying to pinpoint why he recognized it.... 

Then, it hit him. Lady Higurashi! Who was currently residing with that bastard Naraku.... Suddenly, an idea shot through his mind. It was absolutely mad. But then again, he mused with a smirk, doing mad things was mere protocol for the Prince of Thieves, the infamous outlaw and ghost of Sherwood Forest. 

As quick as a flash of lightning, his feet changed direction and he was bounding towards Nottingham Castle, a small voice in the back of his mind whispering in a futile attempt to stay his madness. And yet, the closer he drew to his old enemy’s lair, the stronger the scent grew and he couldn’t stop himself from charging onward. 

Swift and silent, he sped through the grass, until the looming height of the castle’s walls concealed his form completely. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the smell, then just as he located it, a quiet click blocked out the path completely. 

But Inuyasha’s ears were just as strong as his nose. They twitched at the sound, directing himself to look at a window facing the east. Bracing himself, he began to scale the walls, heading directly up towards the Lady Higurashi’s chambers... 

* * *

“Rin, dear! Get away from the window!” Yuka hurried over and quickly pulled in the windowpane, snapping it closed tightly. “The night air will be your death, child!” 

“I’m sorry, Miss Yuka, but did you see that red star? It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Rin said excitedly, her eyes shining and hands clasped in front of her. 

Yuka the handmaiden scoffed. “’Miss Yuka’? I am only ‘Yuka,’ child, nothing more. Don’t be impertinent and address me like I’m a gentleman’s daughter!” 

“Leave her be, Yuka, dear,” Kagome called over from her sofa, laughing, looking up from her embroidery. “She still has a lot to learn, and as it is now, she’s doing splendidly. I remember breaking rules of properly addressing my elders _ constantly _. Among other things.” 

Rin giggled behind her hand. Yuka frowned, biting the inside of her cheek. “That may be well and true, Your Ladyship,” she said in a huff, “but she’ll never learn without the proper guidance!” 

Kagome laughed again. “I think we had enough lessons for one day. It’s been a rather busy afternoon, has it not, Rin?” She winked at her ward. “We should all probably turn in for the night.” 

It was hard to believe that this was the same day in which Kagome went from what she believed was helping feed a poor child off the streets, to rescuing her from the jaws of an unlawful system. And now she was practically a mother to the poor child! Yet, it was far better to take on the responsibility than allow an innocent to starve to death, as she firmly told Yuka. She sent correspondence directly to her mother, of course, but knew it was merely a formality. Lady Kagome inherited her mother’s instinctive desire to help others, so she was certain there would be no protest from her kindly lady mother. 

Kagome stood up, setting aside her embroidery, wriggling her fingers to release the tension, and walked over to the now closed window to gaze once more at the mysterious red star that had excited Rin. Behind her, Yuka was fussing over the girl and helping her into a nightgown before tucking her into the bed. Kagome smiled, seeing their movements reflected in the glass, and.... something else. She blinked. She had an uncanny sensation of being watched, perhaps from the outside... 

For a wild moment, she thought it might be Lord Naraku (the lord had already proven to be a scoundrel), but no, her chambers were too high up for even the likes of Naraku to spy on... 

Then, she gasped. A pair of golden eyes, burning brighter than the heart of a fire, were staring at her from just outside the window. 

Without thinking, she unlatched the window and opened it. She had all of two seconds to stare at the mysterious face in the dark before a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her until she was leaning far over the sill. 

“Come with me,” a rough, masculine voice whispered sharply in her ear, his tone and hot breath sending a pleasurable tingle down her spine. 

“Yes,” she gasped, hardly understanding why she gave her consent, as strong arms swept her up, pressing her against a broad, hard chest. Heart thumping loudly, Kagome clung to the stranger’s garb as they launched off into the night sky, not plummeting to their deaths but almost soaring, gliding swiftly yet gently in a downwards cline beyond the castle’s walls.... 

Back in her chambers, Yuka turned around to ask her lady a question, but was faced with nobody there. Just the howling wind blowing through the open window. 

* * *

Naraku’s bed chambers were cold and dark. High up in one of the castle’s abandoned towers, the only way up and down was a narrow spiral staircase and a trapdoor on the floor of the room. Far away from the roaring fires of the feasting hall, far away from the warmth that smothered the lower levels during this summer season, his chamber was as close to annual winter as the coldest mountain peak. 

There was never a fire burning in the hearth, not a single torch lining the walls. Once a person’s eyes adjusted to the penetrating darkness, they would see a single, large bed against the corner, with curtains drawn on all sides. 

The one window in the room was boarded up completely, not allowing a single sliver of sunshine or moonlight inside. The bed chamber was completely and utterly contained in one round, dark shell. 

Kagura hated it with every fiber of her being. 

And yet, here she was: being summoned to _ his _ side at this ungodly hour past midnight. One of his wretched guards had awakened her from a fitful sleep in the depths of the kitchens, where the other servants slumbered on peacefully. The leer on his face told her all she needed to know: the whore of Nottingham was needed. For that was exactly what everyone believed her to be. Not that it mattered. They knew nothing. 

Kagura paused to catch her breath halfway up her ascent of the wretched tower. No matter how many times she had taken this journey to her master’s private chambers, she always paused at the halfway point to gaze out the last window from that point onward. It was small, barely enough for Kagura’s whole face to peek through. But nevertheless, she always stopped here, pressing her face as close to the opening as possible, the metal bar in the middle cold and unyielding against her skin. Even with the darkness of night closing in, with nothing but the strange glare of that mysterious red star, she could still feel the wind, brushing against her face. 

If only she was not trapped in a body of flesh and blood, so that she may slip through those cold walls and vanish into thin air. 

If only she was the very wind itself, and could fly far away, travel wherever she desired... 

Anywhere that was not within these wretched walls. 

But it was not to be. She had duties to attend to. 

Reaching the trapdoor, she rapped three times to the rhythm that her lord and master recognized. His muffled voice called for her entry, and she pushed up. 

“Kagura...” Naraku’s despicable purring tone greeted her ears as she climbed up into the chamber. “Come here.” 

The trapdoor slammed shut behind her. As it landed, Kagura disrobed her kimono. Naked, covered in goosebumps from the frigid air, she stepped over her rumpled pile of clothes and walked slowly to the bed. She knew this room so well, despite the penetrating darkness, that she was able to walk perfectly calmly across the floor to the bed without stumbling. She sat down on the soft mattress, keeping her back carefully turned towards Naraku. 

“I am only here by my lord and master’s command, and for my lord and master’s pleasure,” she murmured as his fingers ran through her long hair. She refrained from shivering, knowing it would only give him the satisfaction that he still held that power over her. 

Her fear added to his pleasure. She would not allow him that. He took everything else. Why give him more than her body? She tilted her head, tucked some hair behind her ear, and looked over her shoulder giving him her best coy look. 

He always fell for her act. 

“Good girl,” he whispered, his breath against her shoulder, sliding his arms about her naked waist and pulling her back into the shadows of his canopied bed... 

.

.

.

“Stay here,” Naraku said as he pulled the trousers up his legs. “I shall return within the hour.” 

Kagura moaned in protest. This was the most dangerous part of the game, but sometimes it was the best card she had left to play. She rolled over onto her stomach, half-covered under the sheets they had just tangled in. “Must I? But my lord...” she drawled out the word in a playfully whiny tone. “I don’t want you to leave!” 

“You mustn’t make such noise, Kagura, it’s unbecoming of a lady. Not that you are one, are you?” He chuckled and reached over, sliding one finger down her cheek. She could feel a sharp nail scraping against her skin. She wondered if he deliberately filed them sharp. 

But she smiled anyway. “I am my lord’s mistress. That’s second best to a lady, is it not?” She rolled over again, teasing him with her exposed form. 

Naraku’s eyes glinted. Kagura faltered. Was she out of turn? Before she could formulate an apology or excuse, the back of his hand already made sharp contact against her face. Stunned by the slap and by the fervor it was given, Kagura rolled over again, nursing her bruised cheek with her hands. She concentrated on keeping her breathing under control. The last she needed was him seeing the terror on her face. 

Even in darkness, her expression could not hide from Naraku’s gaze. 

Instead, she morphed her face into one of regret, but of the coy nature. The problematic child who had a rebellious streak, but also repented when caught. Open fear only egged him on, leading to more bruises and sore muscles. This act saved her countless times from such fate since the first time. 

It worked. Naraku instantly caressed her cheek, murmuring empty apologies that she pretended to lap up like a hungry kitten. He finally left her in the tower, with his last words ringing in her ears: 

“Remember, Kagura, my little bird, you are a whore. Nothing more. Do not displease me again.” 

For a few minutes, Kagura remained sitting in bed, focusing on bringing her racing heart and erratic breathing back under control. Then, as soon as she had it under control, ran to the cold fireplace. She grabbed some of the ashes, rubbed them between her palms, whispered something into it and released them back into the hearth. 

What once was a cold, empty place now stood a roaring fire. But the flames were colored violet, its light barely bright enough to light up even the darkest of rooms. Kagura leaned forward until her face was being gently licked by the cool flames that would never burn her. She spoke now quietly, in a concise, clear tone. 

“The spider’s web remains untangled.” 

She paused and waited. Then, a voice, soft and echoing, replied. 

“Do not let its venom enter your blood.” 

Satisfied, Kagura leaned back and waved her hand. The violet fire vanished, leaving the hearth exactly as it was before. 

She returned to Naraku’s bed, feeling calmer and at ease. As the minutes crept towards the next hour, and the trapdoor opened once more, she laid back and spread her legs, ready as ever to please her lord and master ere his return. 

That was her role. And she played it well. 

* * *

Several hours before dawn, the alabaster glow of the moon reappeared, marking a stark change in the sky for the first time since the night before. 

The red star was gone. 


	4. The Lady and the Thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: I had most of this chapter written and ready to go since April, but found myself stuck on the ending. Finally, I embraced the route I was already taking, so things will... escalate, perhaps more than people will expect, perhaps not. Let's just say that Robin Hood is often interpreted as a high epic romance... take that however you will. ;-) 
> 
> Here is an InuKag-centric chapter at long last! Enjoy!

Kagome clutched onto the stranger’s garb as he leapt her down from her tower at Nottingham Castle, hardly daring to believe her own boldness. What on earth possessed her to willingly join a stranger in the dark, taking her who knew where and why? Who was to say the man had honorable intentions? For that matter, what was so honorable about snatching strange women out of their private chambers?! And yet, she mused in bewilderment, somehow, she still felt so safe in his arms... 

It was only after the man touched foot on the grass beyond the castle’s walls and began running on the firm ground when Kagome suddenly realized that the ominous red color that dyed the sky since last dawn was completely gone. The pearly white moonlight was illuminating the world once more.

She stared up at the sky, mouth slightly agape, then her eyes fell on her captor’s face, visible under the bright moonlight. She inhaled sharply, suppressing a squeal of alarm. 

Was it the shock of readjusting to a normal moonlit sky again, or was this stranger’s hair made of starlight itself? 

His long, silvery hair flowed behind him in the wind, no doubt long enough to reach his lower back. From his mouth, an elongated fang glinted in the light, and yes, indeed, her eyes were not playing tricks on her, his were indeed colored an amber hue! As Kagome continued her silent, stunned observations of her mysterious kidnapper, she realized that his hands had claws, too sharp and long to be considered human. His crimson attire gleamed blood red under the moonlight, a black cloak dramatically flying behind him. Although shocked beyond belief at who or what this man was, Kagome could not deny the sheer beauty of his form. 

Her eyes rose up once more and suddenly noticed the final outward mark of his difference: a pair of triangular ears atop his head, matching the color of his silver-white hair. 

“Didn’t your mother teach you it was rude to stare? My, what frightful manners you have, wench.” 

Kagome’s slack jaw closed with a snap. Her eyebrows furrowed. “If we’re going to compare manners, I do believe kidnapping a young lady from her bed chambers is a greater offense.” 

“Kidnapping? Now, that is too harsh, miss.” His tone was light, amused, something that both relieved and aggravated Kagome. “If I had ‘kidnapped’ you, the term implies a lack of wanting to come along, and I do believe you said ‘yes’ to my request.” 

Kagome spluttered. “That was--!”

“A spur of the moment? No doubt it was. I suspected you’d comply without putting up a fight, even if you’re putting up pretenses now.” 

“What are you-?”

But Kagome’s question was cut off when her captor alighted on the forest floor. Forest floor? She blinked and looked around. The thick foliage of dark, lurking trees, even more ominous and mysterious in the night, was all the affirmation she needed. They must be in Sherwood Forest! 

The silver-haired man gently set her feet on the ground, and it took every bit of strength in Kagome not to sway and collapse after such an exhilarating ride. Straightening herself up and smoothing down her dress, she looked around. The forest was not completely pitch black as one was wont to believe, but rather softly illuminated by trails of moonlight, glistening amongst the shadows. They were standing in a small opening in the trees, quite thoroughly canopied by the Forest’s many long, entwined branches. Because of the thick protection, not much of the early spring sunlight had yet to shine through and melt the last remaining touches of winter, and so the entire small area was covered in a thick, soft blanket of snow. 

It was like a pocket of time, clutching at the last season while the rest of the world melted and warmed. 

Kagome shivered violently, suddenly very much aware that she was not dressed nearly appropriately enough. 

Something warm and soft drooped over her shoulders. She turned her head, and gasped: red cloth! She spun around to stare at the stranger. He had removed the top half layer of his attire, except the cape which was clasped about his neck and did not require removal with the rest. Underneath, he wore a thin white tunic. It couldn’t possibly protect him from the climate, especially here, where winter’s dying breath lingered. 

But by the gods, he did look extraordinarily handsome, standing there in the snow, the dark trees behind him, the silver sheen of his hair catching moonlight in patches. 

“Won’t... won’t you catch a cold?” Kagome asked breathlessly, feeling unnaturally warm all over. 

“Men like me do not ‘catch colds,’” was his only answer. His tone sounded less light now; there was an edge to it, one that made Kagome involuntarily step backwards. 

She attempted to regain some control. “Well then, now that you have me here, pray tell me what you want from me? You could not possibly have spontaneously desired a moonlit stroll in the snow at midnight, with a total stranger, no less?” Her voice remained cool and steady, but her fingers clutched tightly onto the red robe about her shoulders. 

He stared at her, his golden eyes glowing in the dark. Once again, Kagome was taken in by those eyes, and her resolve to find answers began to slip. She swallowed hard, licking her lips without thinking. 

“Speak!” she demanded, a little too loudly. 

The stranger’s eyebrows rose mockingly. “I did not realize I was addressing royalty,” he said with such biting sarcasm that Kagome recoiled as if she had been slapped. 

“Perhaps not directly, but as good as!” she snapped, pride swelling up and overtaking her good senses. “I am the Lady Kagome Higurashi, the eldest and heir to the Higurashi clan--”

“I know exactly who you are, wench, and you ain’t royalty.” 

Kagome’s face burned. She had never been one to flaunt her authority unless absolutely necessary, but this was ridiculous! “I beg your pardon, sir, but what was it you were saying earlier about manners?!” 

“As far as I’m concerned any person fraternizing with that bastard Naraku is lower than the poorest of peasants.” 

“You-!” Kagome’s comeback insult stopped in her throat. She stared at her accuser, utterly bewildered. “I-- fraternizing? … What on earth--?”

“I brought you here tonight, wench, because I want to know exactly who Naraku is to you – relation, ally, lover, I care not, just the truth – and what you are doing in Nottingham, because I know for a fact that the nearest Higurashis live at least twenty miles by the setting sun, and why the hell you helped that whelp in the market earlier today?” 

As the silver-haired man spoke, every word dripping with intimidation and disdain, he stepped closer and closer to Kagome, who, startled and a bit frightened, backed up from his every inch of pursuit. Stumbling, she hurried back and back, half-listening to his words, sputtering incoherently at certain mentions (lover to Naraku? Good gods, that was precisely what she was trying to avoid whilst trapped under his thinly veiled hospitality!), until finally her back slammed against a large tree trunk. Her captor caught up to her before she could regain her breath, and pressed in close, his hands braced on both sides, trapping her in between. 

Heart pounding wildly, Kagome’s already hot face scorched under the man’s intense gaze. She was cornered, and she just knew that even ducking under his arms would do no good. He wasn’t human, certainly not entirely, and she suspected that his strength in carrying her from her tower and light footing that nearly resembled flying must also be accounted for unnatural speed. 

_ Courage, Kagome! Courage! _

She mustered whatever gumption she had left in her, even with her legs losing all feeling, and glared up into the stranger’s eyes. Captivated once more by their intensity, she turned his power onto itself and used it to her benefit. Holding her head high, she jabbed a finger against his chest, holding his attention as she railed into him. 

“For your information, you impertinent wretch, Lord Naraku is neither a relation, ally, friend of mine, and most certainly _ not _ my lover! He is my acquaintance at best, and an unfortunate side effect of being both of nobility and political higher standing, so my family is obligated to negotiate, discuss societal matters, and yes, even ‘call on him’ and visit like civilized people. My mother has been abed ever since she gave birth to my baby brother last month, and my father is loath to leave her side, thus it was unto I, the eldest child, to carry on the family tradition. It is a despicable job, to be sure, and I’d sooner stay with the dull Hojo clan down south than with that wretched Naraku, but it is my duty and I refuse to disappoint my parents!” 

She caught her breath, triumphant to see his shocked face. She plowed on rapidly, determined to get everything out of her system before he intimidated her further. 

“As for why I am in Nottingham, I have mostly answered for that, but there is more to it still: the Higurashi clan has connections with the abbey, and we always check to make sure that charities are running smoothly, that our attempts to help the less fortunate actually bear some fruit, so that the gods may smile down upon our work. Scoff if you like, it is the truth nonetheless! As for your final question, I haven’t the slightest idea how you witnessed my little excursion at the market this afternoon, as I’m quite certain I’d remember an onlooker with silver hair like yours, but in short: the child Rin was being falsely accused of stealing money, money that I had rightfully paid her for an apple, and I stepped in because it was my fault she was in trouble, even though she never should have been suspected in the first place!” 

She stopped to take another breath, pushing her finger harder against him, and, to her surprise, actually caused him to stumble back at a pace. She stepped forward, her finger firmly in place, glowering up at him, the notable difference in their heights only spurring her irritation onward. 

“And with all your questions answered, sir, would _ you _ mind telling me exactly why you kidnapped me – yes, _ kidnapped_, circumstances be damned! -- and brought me in the middle of the haunted Sherwood Forest to interrogate me?! I suppose you’re going to feed me to the goblins or devils or whatever hellspawn that resides here!” 

Silence settled, a smothering, dreadful thing that seemed to press all around them. Kagome became keenly aware of the possible danger she was in, let alone the oil she just spilled on the proverbial fire of the situation. Still, pride held out, and she remained in place, chin held up haughtily as she watched his face for any reactions. 

For a moment, he looked frozen, stunned and speechless. His frightening aura earlier had dissipated completely, replaced with sheer bewilderment. Then, without warning, a huge smile cracked over his face and he burst out laughing. 

Kagome blinked, too taken aback to move away, and in her confusion got swept up in a spinning embrace by the strange man. He continued laughing and laughing, deaf to her shrieks and squeals of alarm and demanded to be put down. 

“By gods, woman, you are a remarkable creature!” 

“Put me down-!”

“Here I was, half-convinced you were some concubine of Naraku’s--”

“Ugh, as if! Now, let me go--!”

“--and yet, here you are, spitting fire and showing claws beneath all that demure finery! I was right not to shoot at you--”

“Shoot at me?!” 

“-- no way in hell am I handing you back now! What a woman!” 

“Now, wait just one minute! I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME!”

He stopped spinning about sharply, still holding her above him, so she had to place her hands on his shoulders to hold steady. Both of them were breathing heavily, her from the sudden jarring movements, him from laughing too hard. Now at a standstill once again, Kagome’s heart skipped a beat, staring down into the strange man’s face, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight as he grinned mischievously. 

_ If this was a story, he’d kiss me right now. _ Kagome’s sudden thought jolted her, making her involuntarily lean back from the stranger, as best as she could, given her position hoisted in the air by his embrace. Her face burned hotly; she wouldn’t have been surprised if her very presence melted the last remaining snow. 

“Forgive me, I was too hasty.” He plopped her down on her feet in the snow and before she could protest further, sunk onto one knee and bowed his head, one arm swept dramatically across his chest in a comically delayed gesture of “introduction.” 

“I am called Inuyasha, notorious troublemaker and outlaw of Nottingham, lord of Sherwood Forest, otherwise known as ‘the Prince of Thieves.’ The pleasure is all mine.” He grasped one of her hands and pressed his lips against her knuckles and said, with a rumble deep in his throat that sent shivers down her spine: “_My lady._” 

The Prince of Thieves! Kagome’s heart leaped in her chest. 

“You’re... you’re Inuyasha?! That’s impossible!” 

“In the flesh, my lady.” He flashed her a grin and stood up again, spreading out the cape with his arms. “Art thou impressed?” he asked in a mock formal fashion, but his smile looked genuine. 

Kagome could only gape openmouthed, forgetting her previous irritation. This was beyond anger or frustration or absurdity. She must be dreaming! Yes, that must be it. Any moment, Yuka would be shaking her awake and she would begin her second morning as the Sheriff of Nottingham’s guest. 

Because there was no way in the name of the gods that she was face to face with a legend. 

The infamous thief of Nottingham had reached high levels of infamy as far as far away counties. For the past several odd decades, the name “Inuyasha” spread from sea to sea, a tale of terror or adventure depending on who told it. Kagome, being a nobleman’s daughter, was naturally more accustomed to the terrifying visage of Inuyasha’s mythical identity, but when she was a child, she overheard servants swap stories of the swashbuckling hero who robbed the corrupt rich. He was a symbol of “a rebel without a cause,” a man who stole for the sake of fun and adventure but never harmed the poor and down-trod. He became a fantasy, a romanticized outlaw, whose arrows and sword sent rich lords and ladies quaking in their beds. 

But Inuyasha had been a character in tales from her grandfather’s time. At the very least, he should be the same age, elderly, decrepit, in the winter of his years... 

She looked over Inuyasha once more. A man in his prime, nowhere near even the autumn of life. But then again, she mused, gazing at his clawed hands, silver hair, amber eyes, strange ears... 

“What are you?” The question slipped out before she could stop herself. She only hoped he could catch her genuine curiosity, and not assume any cruel implications by the rude statement. 

Something dark flitted in his eyes. Then, he smirked, one of his ears twitching playfully. “A freak.” 

Kagome flushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, I just meant--” 

“Cease with your apologies. I have lived long enough to know the difference between the cutting words of a hostile bastard and the careless question of the curious and naïve.” 

Kagome opened her mouth and closed it again, confused. 

Inuyasha’s mocking smirk melted a little; he offered her a small smile. 

“I suppose I do owe you an explanation, do I not? Mother would be mortified to see how much my manners have slipped.” He laughed again, a short, loud one, and it sounded strangely similar to a dog’s bark, Kagome realized in shock. 

Suddenly, she shivered as a cold wind cut through her. Inuyasha frowned. 

“Let’s get out of here, before you catch your death.” 

He strode forward, opening his arms in a surprisingly tentative gesture. 

Blushing at the realization that she did not want this unexpected rendezvous to end, Kagome bit her lip, nodded her consent, and stepped between his waiting arms, breathless with anticipation over his proximity. She wondered for a wild moment how firm he looked underneath his tunic. Her face flamed even hotter. She grasped his shoulders, ready to be carried away, even as her mind turned to less appropriate thoughts, warming herself from head to toe... 

Inuyasha scooped her up in bridal style and took a sharp leap into the air. Kagome gasped, hanging on tight; the last breath of winter swooped up with their ascent, blanketing them for a moment before Inuyasha broke past the forest’s canopy into clear, early spring air. 

He remained perched atop a tree for a moment, adjusting Kagome in his arms. Though it must have been well past midnight by now, the bright return of the moon seemed to dye the land with a soft yet clear alabaster glow. The view of Sherwood Forest, the sleepy cottages of Nottingham village, and the dark expanse of Nottingham Castle looked breathtaking under the calm, pearly hue of the moon. And up above, the dark dome of the sky was peppered with countless stars, a glimpse of the perennial heavens themselves that mere mortals could never hope of reaching. 

“Beautiful,” Kagome said softly. 

“Yes,” Inuyasha whispered, but even from her peripheral vision, Kagome could tell that his gaze was not fixated on the landscape. 

Abashed yet rather flattered, she ducked her face down, pointedly keeping her eyes decidedly away from his hypnotizing amber eyes. She wondered if she ever blushed so often in these past few hours than she ever had in her entire life. 

Inuyasha cleared his throat and took another leap into the night air, this time descending over the edge of Sherwood until he alighted once more on the grassy fields. As he took off running, he began speaking, his voice barely making a break. 

“Folks around here speak of ghosts, goblins, and the devil’s children that dwell in these woods. The old warn the young that leaving these accursed grounds would be unwise, because the terrors of Sherwood would surely come after them. Well, my lady, as I stated earlier, Sherwood Forest is my domain. I know every tree, every stone, every brook, every water hole. Sherwood is no more haunted than you have a second head.” 

Kagome remained silent, holding onto his every word. There was something more captivating about a man’s words after his fame, practically mysticism, became known. 

“I am ‘the devil’s child,’ the whispering ghoul and ghost of the trees, the frightening nightmare that has plagued peasants’ children since their parents’ parents were young, although I have never touched a hair on their heads.” 

His tone took on a bitter lacing, one that cut Kagome to the quick. Despite her earlier embarrassment, she tightened her grip on the robe he had wrapped about her shoulders, keenly aware of their proximity as she remained nestled against his broad chest. He must have been so lonely, she realized, unconsciously nuzzling her head in compassion, willing him to understand her sympathy through her body language. 

His tone softened. “I, Inuyasha, Prince of Thieves, am what I suppose you call a ‘half-demon.’”

“A half-demon?” Kagome echoed breathlessly. 

“I’m only half-human. Neither one or the other. I have lived on this earth for over a century and had to bury my mother and... others I have known.” 

_ Others? _ Kagome’s eyebrows creased slightly at the implication of his hesitation. 

Inuyasha went on. “I am not alone, however. There are others like me, though they are scarce. It’s rarer still to find any that reach maturity, because few human mothers can birth an abomination and not have the abbey catch on and dispose of their blasphemous existences.” 

“Do you mean,” Kagome said in horror, clapping a hand to her mouth, “that those babies get... k-kill--?”

“Naturally.”

“B-but it’s not their fault!”

“Is it not?”

Inuyasha fell silent, a pointed one, one that dared her to respond. Kagome suddenly felt the burden of her ‘Higurashi’ title crushing her shoulders, and said nothing, chewing on his words. 

The silence between them carried on and suddenly, he ascended high up and landed once again in front of her chamber window. 

There was a ledge, large enough to stand, and Kagome shakily placed her feet there as Inuyasha helped her down from his arms. 

“Th-thank you,” she managed to gasp, feeling rather giddy by tonight’s events. 

“My pleasure.” 

For a moment, they stood facing one another, Kagome safe on the ledge, Inuyasha perched precariously a step below on the shingles of the tower (or at least, it would have been dangerous for an ordinary human). The moonlight shone down on them, and even the stars seemed to glow ever brighter. 

Inuyasha, the Prince of Thieves did not look remotely human nor demon nor half-demon. He was a celestial being, a roguish yet handsome god walking among mortals. His long silver hair glimmered because his head was before the moon. His intense golden eyes seemed out of this world, the eyes of an ancient being. 

Kagome suddenly felt very foolish, adorned in her evening gown of forest green and white trimmings. 

She opened her mouth to say something, perhaps another show of appreciation or even an apology, but words never formed. 

For in that very moment, Inuyasha leaned in and captured her mouth with his own. 

At first, Kagome could only stare, her eyes wide open at Inuyasha’s closed eyelids. His eyelashes were long, she realized with a skip of a beat, between the roaring thundering in her chest. 

His mouth was so warm, she thought, and when he moved away, she regretted the cold night air coming back in full force. She brought trembling fingers up to her lips, reveling in her stolen kiss, wishing she had time to close her eyes as well to savor the sweetness... 

“Forgive me.” Inuyasha’s voice was hoarse yet controlled. 

Kagome started, looking up at him in shock. 

Inuyasha kept his eyes averted shamefully, but even under the cover of nighttime, his cheeks looked just as red as hers felt. “I was beyond myself. You just... looked so beautiful in the moonlight, so much like a goddess, that I just--”

Unable to bear it anymore, Kagome clicked her tongue in exasperation and reached out and jerked Inuyasha’s chin back to face her. He looked stunned as she glared up at him. 

“There is nothing to forgive, sir, for it is only when a lady says ‘no’ that a gentleman must be obliged to halt his advances.” 

The words hung between them before sinking in. Inuyasha’s eyes turned from surprised to boyishly triumphant. He tilted her chin up, his lips a breadth away from hers, their mouths parted slightly with a mutual unspoken hunger. 

“And doth mine lady fair giveth her consent?” 

Kagome licked her lips, already greedy for more, even as she whispered: “Verily, sir.” 

And verily so, all chastity forgotten, did the newfound lovers find themselves wrapped tightly in an unspeakably passionate embrace. 

Kagome was not new to kissing; she had her fair share of beaus in her teens, but they always gave chaste, soft, shy kisses. Not this wild, intense dive into a world of passion! Pressed against the tower’s stone wall, Kagome wrapped herself tightly around Inuyasha, trusting him not to let her slip, feeling his strong arms keeping her in place, while his hands wandered, daring to brush here and there, and lighting her very essence aflame. She felt parched, lost in a desert, and only Inuyasha’s lips against hers, only his hands grazing over her dress, seemed to quench that unspeakable thirst. He was her oasis and her scorching sun and her rough desert sand all at once. 

His hands never crept underneath her dress, but the lingering touches spoke of an innate desire to explore. Once his fingers trembled as they ran over her concealed breasts; he laid his hand deliberately flat, only allowing the fingers to feel the swell and dip of her chest before sliding back down to her waist. Kagome did not lack notice of this, feeling both grateful for his self-control and rather disappointed that he didn’t take the step. 

Suddenly aware of that dangerous thought, Kagome realized she had to put her foot down and not solely depend on Inuyasha’s honor. 

“Sir, this has been enchanting, but I really must turn in for the night,” Kagome murmured, hating herself, as Inuyasha planted sweet kisses along her neck. 

“My lady, you slay me,” Inuyasha groaned somewhere in the vicinity of her collarbone. 

Kagome giggled, flushing hot red. “Really, sir, you were ever so gentlemanly a few moments ago--”

“And that was before my lady threw caution to the winds and giveth her consent.” 

“‘Tis a sin to engage in licentious behavior without mutual desire, sir.” 

Inuyasha raised his head and met her eyes again, his brow raised. “Is it not also a sin to be so intimate with a man you know so little about?”

Kagome licked her lips nervously. “‘Twas difficult to resist. Temptation is as powerful as she is persuasive.” 

“Then, perhaps,” Inuyasha said slyly, leaning down to brush his lips against hers, “you ought to be persuaded more.” 

“And be classified as a harlot and ruin my reputation? For shame, sir!” Kagome said coolly between kisses, her hands clasped tightly behind his head. 

“You are a lady kissing a thief, under the cloak of moonlight before dawn’s rays break over the horizon,” Inuyasha said softly, tracing Kagome’s lower lip with his thumb, causing her to shiver. His eyes glistened as they locked eyes again. Then, he grinned cockily. “We are what poets dream about!” 

“Pray, tell me why poets would find such fleeting madness worthy of immortalizing?” Kagome asked, her tone carefully mock-dignified, but her heart was thumping wildly. 

“Did you not know, my lady? The greatest stories all have a moment of ‘fleeting madness.’ The hero slays the dragon, the princess runs away with a pauper, the queen drinks a potion for eternal beauty. A lady kisses a thief.” He pressed his lips against hers once more, breaking it off a moment too soon. “What will the story unfold now?” 

They said nothing for a while afterwards, lost in each other’s embrace. It wasn’t until the moon disappeared and the sky grew a hazy grey, the light before the dawn, when they reluctantly parted at last. 

Kagome let herself be led by hand to the threshold of her window, still reeling from the unbridled display of passion she had exhibited. 

Quietly, she opened the latch and stepped down onto the cushioned window seat. “Thank you, Inuyasha,” she said, feeling suddenly rather shy and embarrassed, looking anywhere but at the man she had just done… that with. 

But Inuyasha would not have it. He tucked her chin up and kissed her, brazenly, inside her very chambers. Somehow, being inside the walls of Nottingham’s Castle, as the sun barely began to creep over the horizon, the utter madness of the situation began to take hold. 

“No, you mustn’t!” she squeaked, but his lips silenced her and she found herself unable to break away. 

They held each other for a moment, Inuyasha half out the window, holding onto the ledge above his head for support, Kagome flushed against him, kissing him shamelessly while within her private chambers. Finally, they parted, gazing into each other’s eyes. Inuyasha’s golden eyes burned like the heart of a fire, scorching Kagome’s very soul and melting what little resolve she had left. She cupped his cheek, he leaned into it, kissing her palm gently. 

“Good night, my lady,” Inuyasha said softly. 

“Good morning, is more like it!” 

Kagome whirled around while Inuyasha yelped and smacked his head against the window’s ledge. 

Yuka, Kagome’s handmaiden, stood in front of the drawn curtains leading to Kagome’s bed chamber, fully dressed and bristling with vivid rage that could burn down the very foundations of the castle, glaring at the caught lovers.


End file.
